


The Cure for What Ails You

by allthetrek



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Gen, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-20 21:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18132206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthetrek/pseuds/allthetrek
Summary: While working on the bridge, you get a migraine; Captain Pike takes excellent care of you.





	The Cure for What Ails You

You placed your hands on the console in front of you, bracing yourself as you felt the unwanted and familiar sensations begin to take hold of you. You’d felt a migraine coming on for hours now, the familiar aura creating a pit of dread in your stomach. Not today, please not today…

It hadn’t been a very productive shift so far, and you were getting worse. You had two hours left on your shift, and you had been trying hard the past hour to just keep yourself upright as your vision started to become distorted. Now, the lights and sounds of the bridge were becoming over-pronounced; lights becoming hazy and warped, the imbalance of your field of vision worsening the nausea that started to overcome you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Your face felt flushed, the heat of the ambient bridge temperature almost unbearable. Was it always this hot in here? You were traveling across the frigid void of space, the temperature on the exterior -270 degrees Celsius, yet just a few meters of tritanium away it felt like you were standing on the Fire Plains of Vulcan.

“[Y/N], are you okay?” the Captain’s voice snapped you out of your daze. He looked across the bridge to you, seeing your stance and unnatural complexion.

“I… No, Captain. I’m not feeling quite myself,” you stated, the suffering in your voice evident.

Pike’s expression was one of concern and sympathy. The two of you had gotten close as of late, and he didn’t like seeing you suffer in any way. “You’re relieved. Go to sick bay, [Y/N],” he commanded, but his tone was soft and understanding as he rose from the command chair and escorted you to the turbo lift, pressing the door release for you and allowing you to step inside.

“Thank you, Chr… Captain,” you stated, quickly correcting yourself. You had to be careful not to call him Christopher on duty. The two of you hadn’t disclosed your relationship yet, feeling it was best to see where things were headed first. And things were headed in a pretty incredible direction so far…

“Feel better. That’s an order,” he stated quietly to you, his sympathetic smile the last thing you saw as the turbo lift doors closed and you began your descent. A wave of nausea washed over you as the motion of the turbo lift, however smooth it was, affected you. It didn’t take much right now. You put your hand on the wall to brace yourself, closing your eyes and counting down the levels…

Finally, it stopped, and you stepped out, foggily finding your way to sick bay, ignoring everyone you passed, your senses not really registering them anyway. You stumbled into sick bay, desperate by now for treatment. You’d been in here before for this, and the doctor knew exactly what to give you. One migraine-cocktail hypospray to the neck and you were directed to your quarters where you would pass out, sleep it off, and wake up good as new. Ideally.

You lurched to your quarters, taking the turbo lift again and cursing whoever designed this shoddy thing. It was way too unsteady, too noisy; you damned the hiss of the doors parting as you exited.

You found your quarters, barely, your brain completely in a fog now, making you a disoriented mess. As soon as you got inside, you urged the computer to dim the lights. It complied, and you sat on the edge of your bed, clumsily pulling off your boots. You undid your collar, unzipped your uniform jacket, and pulled it off, throwing it on the floor next to your bed. Your pants soon joined it, and you pulled back the covers and crawled into your cocoon, propping your head up a bit to ease the throbbing pain now shooting across your forehead and orbitals.

The migraine cocktail began to work, the hypospray permeating into your bloodstream rapidly. An analgesic, anti-emetic, anti-inflammatory, and sedative all helped ease you into a deep and dreamless slumber. For a few hours you slept, until a beep at your quarters brought you back to semi-consciousness.

“Come… come in…,” you stated to the computer, and the doors to your quarters slid open. Your hazy eyes tried to focus on the figure that entered, the dim lights obscuring your ability to see. You could tell from the broad-shouldered, tall form and from his walk that it was the Captain.

He walked over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed. He was familiar with your quarters, having been in here a few times now, under better circumstances than this. You didn’t mind him visiting; you welcomed his comforting presence. Nothing like being in agony to make you feel sorry for yourself.

“I just finished my shift. Thought I’d come check on you,” he said, his voice soft and low, knowing you might be sensitive to noise right now. He’d seen you go through a few episodes since coming aboard. Lately, the mission had been especially stressful; a lot of near-death experiences. It had taken its toll on your body, and it was responding accordingly.

You gave Christopher a weak smile. “Thank you. That’s really thoughtful.”

Christopher’s hand appeared near you, something in his hand you hadn’t noticed. “I brought you a present,” he stated, proceeding to place the object, a cold gel pack, carefully over your forehead. Sweet, merciful waves of cold began emanating from the gel pack. You breathed in, feeling your suffering ease a little more.

“You are an angel of mercy. You wonderful, wonderful man,” you told him, so appreciative of his efforts to help you. He was so thoughtful, always looking for ways he could brighten your day or make your life easier. His caring and open nature made him an incredible partner.

Christopher chuckled lightly, your recognition of his efforts music to his ears, as was your sigh of relief.

He took your hand, his fingers cool from holding the gel pack, but it felt nice. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers delicately. You smiled, his attention to your digits sending tiny sparks coursing through you. Actually, it was your brain releasing serotonin and endorphins, both of which were welcome in your condition.

“Tell me what you need,” Christopher whispered to you.

“Lay with me, just for a bit?” you asked him, craving more of his comforting presence. He nodded, standing up and coming to the other side of your bed. He pulled off his boots and lay down carefully on top of the covers, on his side facing you, careful not to agitate the mattress and make you nauseous. His arms came around your covered torso and he cuddled up to you.

You took a couple of deep breaths, taking in his presence and the relief he had brought you. You were still groggy from the sedative. “Distract me?” you asked him, and he was happy to comply.

“When you’re feeling better, which will be soon, why don’t we have a date night. A romantic dinner, in my quarters, just the two of us?” he said softly, his sweet words drifting up to your ear, his warm breath detectable on your skin.

“Mmmm… That sounds perfect. Dinner, and dessert…?” you asked hazily, your eyes closed, disjointed pictures forming in your mind of your future date with the Captain.

“Absolutely dessert. Anything your heart desires. Everything it desires…,” his voice trailed off, your mind lost to his existence beside you. You were drifting off to sleep again, the medication working its magic as it pulled you back into the void. Christopher smiled as you fell back asleep, happy that you could surrender so easily around him. He stayed with you a little longer, marveling at how beautiful you looked even like this. In his head, he began to plan your date night, and all of the characteristically sweet things he had in store for you.

*** A happy ending: ***

You wake up the next morning, feeling refreshed, your migraine cast into oblivion by the marvels of 23rd-century medicine and Captain Pike’s doting attention. Your memory returns as you get up, Christopher’s dinner invitation standing out in your mind and a twinge of excitement comes over you. You open your closet, beginning to ponder what you should wear to your date…

It’s going to be a good day.


End file.
